Dear Dad,
A few months ago I heard you answer the phone and talk with so much kindness and gentleness to a man whose parents’s home had just burned down. He was a policyholder, calling about insurance questions he knew you could answer, but over the course of that phone call I got to listen to you love him, counsel him, make him feel seen and known. It was the kind of conversation I’m sure you have every day, but hearing it in that context made something click in my mind about the kind of man you are.
You often joke that you don’t have a magic wand you can wave to fix everything. I suppose you’re right - it’s not a magic wand. What you have is this dogged determination to love the people around you so well. And to the rest of us, it looks an awful lot like magic.
I’m only just uncovering the incredible gifts of my childhood with you as my dad: the weeks you spent taking us on vacations, planning everything out in such a way so the whole trip felt like magic to me. The way you noticed the things that were meaningful to each of us and then spent intentional time doing them (for me: reading and build-a-bear stuffed animals.) The easy way you hug me, laugh with me, love on mom.
All these things you worked so hard to do felt like they just fell into place effortlessly. You never demanded your hard work be applauded or even noticed. You never pointed out the sacrifices you made. You were quiet about all that. You just loved me and our family well.
I could talk about so many things that make you an incredible father - your patience, kindness, hard work. But it’s this determined love of yours that makes you unique. I think I’ll spend the rest of my life uncovering the little ways you love me and the people around you with this seemingly impossible level of intentionality and hiddenness.
You’re in a league of your own, Dad.
Happy Father’s Day.
Photo: Stefanie Madison | Be Light Photography